


Man-Bouquet

by footsieinthegarden



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Established Relationship, F/M, Flowers, Fluff, Friendship, M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-12
Updated: 2018-08-12
Packaged: 2019-06-26 02:25:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,038
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15653832
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/footsieinthegarden/pseuds/footsieinthegarden
Summary: Enjolras is convinced by his friends to spend an afternoon picking flowers.





	Man-Bouquet

**Author's Note:**

> 1000 words of totally pointless flower-picking fluff. Very loosely based on an incident at the farm where I take yoga classes. (Though as far as I know, it was just a tiny accident.) Full credit to my instructor/the farm manager for coining the term man-bouquet.

Enjolras had been reluctant to put aside all his coursework to spend a few hours picking flowers, but Jehan’s literal poetic waxing about how enchanting the outing would be, Joly’s encouragement to get some fresh air and sunlight, Combeferre’s reminder that it would support local agriculture, and Grantaire’s sardonic question about if Enjolras would be ever be one for grand romantic gestures had convinced him. He had spent the intervening two days doing some extra work, and contemplating whether Grantaire was hinting he would appreciate a gift of flowers or merely pushing his buttons. 

He realized it was the latter when they approached the picnic table the farm manager had set up outside the flower beds and Grantaire let out a whoop when he saw they would be collecting them in red solo cups. He gave Enjolras’s hand a squeeze and then bounded over to them with Courfeyrac to have an intense discussion about photo op possibilities. 

Enjolras paid for his cup, as well as Grantaire’s, though he ended up carrying both of them since Grantaire and Courfeyrac had secured permission to borrow more for what appeared to be the sole purpose of using them to set up a game of beer pong against the sunflowers. He rolled his eyes but couldn’t help but smile when he heard Grantaire’s genuine laughter. And it was pretty nice to be out in the spring sunshine supporting a local business. 

“I guess this has less potential destruction than flip cup,” Combeferre remarked dryly next to him, but he was also smiling fondly. They left Feuilly making his elevator pitch to the manager about why he would be an excellent seasonal hire in the summer; Enjolras had no idea he had worked on a farm before but was hardly surprised. He wasn’t exactly sure what he should be looking for, and he was content to trail along as Combeferre followed butterflies down one of the paths. He could hear Joly a few rows over dispensing bee facts to Musichetta and Bossuet, who hadn’t even been stung yet.

Every so often, Jehan wandered by in a trance, Bahorel obediently following behind with the armload of cups they had legitimately purchased. After a leisurely circuit, Enjolras still had yet to pick anything. The manager eyed his empty cup as they neared the picnic table. “Don’t be afraid to pick!” she urged. “The only rule is not to step on the flowers.” 

“I’m sorry some of us are so…rowdy,” Enjolras said, as he watched Grantaire and Courfeyrac racing around to get into a timed shot. 

The farmer waved her hand. “They’re not hurting anything. And even if they did, I’m just happy to see you out here. So many guys are afraid to show up for such a traditionally feminine activity.” Enjolras couldn’t stop himself from buying another cup. 

A moment later, he contemplated how many more he might need to buy. There was a shout down the row as Bahorel leaped into the air to make it look the sunflower was tossing the ping pong ball and then cracked that sunflower in half on his way down. Everyone stared at it dangling lifelessly. Cosette appeared with Marius, who was bright red even though he’d had absolutely nothing to do with the predicament. “Oh my God, Bahorel, you’re destroying the environment! How could you do that?” Courfeyrac shouted, like he hadn’t been the mastermind behind the whole operation.

To Enjolras’s relief, the farm manager only laughed. “Did the picture turn out at least?”

Courfeyrac looked down at his phone. “Damn right it did.”

“Well, send it to me for the website and we’ll call it even.” Courfeyrac lit up and practically galloped over to show her all the other pictures he had taken. Enjolras abandoned Combeferre to his boyfriend and went to find his own. Grantaire had just finished stacking all the prop cups together when Enjolras got to his side and took the proffered hand up. 

“Ah, dear Apollo, it is a good thing indeed you are simply named for the sun and not its flower variant.”

“That is not what I’m named for at all, Grantaire.”

Grantaire smirked up at him, squinting a little against the sun. “Oh good, I was worried you were going to take the stick out of your ass and plant it while we were here.” Enjolras opened his mouth to say something indignant but he only ended up blushing when Grantaire kissed him for longer than strictly necessary. “Come on, let’s actually get you some flowers.”

They strolled arm-in-arm along the same route he had taken earlier with Combeferre, but now there was a different kind of enjoyment in it. For all that Grantaire pretended to care nothing for color theory or composition, or a whole litany of other art terms Enjolras didn’t really understand, he clearly had a vision in mind as he picked flowers. Half an hour later he had the makings of three small but aesthetically pleasing bouquets. “I’m jealous,” Combeferre remarked, as Grantaire and Courfeyrac sat down at the picnic table together to arrange their haul properly.

“Isn’t it hideous?” Courfeyrac asked of his own bouquet, with undisguised glee. 

“Oh, it’s wonderful!” Jehan exclaimed as they walked up holding their own bouquet that included what Enjolras were pretty sure were weeds. Bahorel followed some distance behind, trying to walk and finish a dandelion flower crown at the same time. 

Grantaire stood and brought his finished triple bouquet over to Enjolras during the commotion. “What do you think?” he asked more quietly than Enjolras had expected.

“It’s wonderful, R.” He glanced over at Jehan. “In the way people generally use the word.” Grantaire laughed and then shyly held it out. 

“I made it for you.” Enjolras stopped himself before he could say he sort of assumed the flowers would be his since he had paid, after all. He studied it more closely and noticed how it was made mostly of reds and oranges and yellows, with just a little bit of green threaded throughout. He took Grantaire’s hands and leaned over the flowers to kiss him softly.

And if that was the picture that ended up on the website, he couldn’t say he minded.

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, Courfeyrac just always has ping pong balls on him for such emergencies. You can't convince me I'm wrong on this.


End file.
